And I will last forever, unaging, undying
by Jasper Blood
Summary: My revamped and re-imagined version of Count Vladislaus Dracula's past, present and future. After meeting a gorgeous Romanian who turned him down, getting murdered, going to hell, repeat cycle Vlad's back. Some dark humor and seductiveness. R and R!
1. The Count

**PLEASE REVIEW I AM BEGGING YOU! I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED PEOPLE TO READ MY STORIES! PLEASE! IF YOU LIKE THE MOVIE VAN HELSING AND…DARE I SAY IT… TWILGIHT THIS IS FOR YOU!**

And I will last forever, unaging, undying

Transylvania, Romania- 1819

Viscount Vladislaus Dracul paced about his bedchamber, the moonlight seeping through the diamond shaped window panes. His ballroom attire lay strewn about his bed, his rings and other jewels sitting in a small pile on his desk. His fingers drummed monotonously against the windowsill, his eyes fixed on the countless royals entering his lavish domain.

"All for me." He whispered. He tapped his fingertips together. "Today I shall no longer be a viscount, but a count. Such a pity it is that my dear father cannot be here to see my coronation." He chuckled. "Oh well, he is most likely drowning in the fiery depths of Satan and drinking the blood of his countless wives to keep him alive." He strode over to his bed and lifted his ruby encrusted cape. He fastened it to his coat and donned several rings. A diamond-rimmed ring was placed on his right ring finger, a large chunk of obsidian set into the center of it. He smoothed a strand of dark red hair back behind his ears as he put in two gold hoops, one on each ear.

"Now all I must do is find a bride." He said. He gazed out the window. "Of which husband do I have the liberty of robbing?" A few moments later, a young boy swept into the room. As Vlad turned around, the boy fell to his knees in a bow.

"My Master, your guests have all arrived."

"Hmm." He replied, turning back to the window. "And tell me Claudiu, what do you think of the women?"

"They are most lovely, your Excellency." The boy Claudiu answered. Vlad smiled.

"How lovely Claudiu?"

"They are like the sun and moon your highness; they possess both brightness and darkness."

"A fitting analogy, but are they of my taste?"

"Well sire, I believe it would depend on what kind of woman you seek."

"I'd prefer her to be a virgin, Claudiu. I don't like used females. But I suppose I must settle."

"Ah, then what hair color do you please sire? Of what color skin and of what level of intelligence?"

"Hair color doesn't bother me, and I'd prefer for her to be somewhat intelligent. But not too smart. The smart ones have the courage to protest."

"I see your meaning my Master. Perhaps you would like the older brunettes?"

"How old?"

"Perhaps of one and twenty years, nineteen even."

"Yes, yes that might work. Quite well."

"And does his Excellency wish for the woman to be married?"

"Either or, it doesn't much matter to me." Vlad replied haughtily and turned away from the window. Again, the boy fell to his knees. Vlad rolled his eyes and kicked the boy in the side.

"Get up you imbecile, before you start weeping all over my shoes. I have no need for your peasant ways. Now go away from here." He snapped. The boy nodded weakly and began to leave the room when Vlad grasped his collar. He patted the boy's shoulder.

"I wish for your side to ache little." He said quietly, and the boy thought that he had heard the slightest hint of gentleness in it. He left at once, leaving the count to bask in his gloomy silence.

***

Count Vladislaus danced with each of the women, looking each of them over thoroughly, then conversing with them for a few moments until he tired of them. He conversed with them to see if they were of his preferred level of intelligence, rather than dumb as posts. And most of them were dumb as posts. He slumped in his throne. His advisor, Adam Constantinescu, approached him. The man knelt before the count, then addressed him.

"Count Dracul, you seem quite distressed."

"I _seem _quite distressed Adam. Whether or not I truly am shall remain a mystery to you." Vlad replied. Adam smiled.

"Quite true sire. And has his highness selected a bride?" he inquired. Vlad scowled.

"I have danced with every woman and they all have neither brain nor wit. Beauty seems to be the only thing they possess, as it does not require any thinking."

"Ah, I heartily agree my Master, but I must correct you. You have danced with all but one woman." Adam said. Vlad eyed him coldly.

"Please, enlighten me my advisor. These women are all such blithering idiots that my own mind seems to have been slowed by their immense stupidity." He stated flatly. Adam chuckled.

"Enlighten you, I shall my Master. And I trust that you will be quite pleased with the results of this woman."

"The female is a lovely creature my advisor. From a distance. Up close… well, do not put me through the agony of describing _that_."

"I would not wish upon you such agony my Master, but I ask that you approach this woman with a clear mind."

"You ask for a lot my advisor. The girl must be quite valuable to you, if you are asking for such a thing."

"No, no, not valuable to me sire, but to her elders. Her father and uncles are quite eager to get rid of her."

"'Get rid of her' you say? Not a very flattering response. Is she a devil child of some sort?"

"Oh good gracious no, my Master! They simply want her to be able to use her intelligence in the royal court of Transylvania. She exceeds even the most knowledgeable scholars in the land. She is by far the…"

"Constantinescu, I believe I thoroughly explained my expectations in a woman, did I not? Did I stutter somewhere when explaining to you that I wanted a particularly smart, but not _too _smart woman? Did I not stress that?" Vlad cut him off. Adam sighed.

"Yes sir, you did stress that."

"Ah, I see. Now, will you please explain to me why it is so vital that I become acquainted with this woman?"

"Well sir, she is not of any royal rank. She is the daughter of a merchant. But she has a dowry of ten thousand a year, along with the knowledge of a skilled strategist and tactician. As supreme ruler of Transylvania, surely that is good news to you." He explained. Vlad drummed his fingertips against the arm of his throne.

"I am listening. Tell me, my advisor, what does she look like?"

"For a woman who is accustomed to hard labor, she is strikingly beautiful."

"How beautiful? I do not want an eyesore to remain at my side. My bride must be of knowledge and beauty, for I will not stand to be laughed at by the court."

"She is a brunette of nineteen years sire, one year your junior. She is of pale skin and her hair drapes about her shoulders most elegantly. She is quite pleasing to the eye, my Master, I have met her myself."

"Hmm…if she is as intelligent and beautiful as you say, then perhaps I should look into asking her for a dance. What think you, my advisor?"

"A most splendid idea sire."

"Good. Where is this female?"

***

"Oh Daciana, is not his Excellency charming?" Lady Dumitrescu inquired. Daciana sighed and looked to her companion.

"Charming? Charming is such an ill used word my dear Bianca. And I consider it hardly fitting for such an arrogant, intolerable, man as him." She scoffed. Bianca was taken aback.

"Surely you cannot mean that. The Count is perhaps the handsomest man in all of Transylvania, perhaps in all of Romania!"

"Yes, I agree, he is quite handsome but that is all. He does not possess business savvy, or any valuable knowledge for that matter. All he is concerned with is how he looks in the eyes of the court. He is proud and pride is what ruins countries and their regions." Daciana replied, although she did not know that the count himself was directly behind her.

"Is that so madam?" he inquired. Daciana swallowed hard, then turned gracefully to look at Count Dracul, keeping her composure.

"I believe it is your Excellency." She answered. The Count nodded.

"I see. And, may I inquire who it is that I have the misfortune of meeting?" he said. Daciana was taken aback at such an insult, but remained indifferent.

"Daciana Dalca, your highness." She answered boldly. The Count smiled coldly.

"My advisor recommends you to me, Miss Dalca. I would ask you to dance but I am not sure that I would be able to handle your constant harassment. Perhaps some other time?" he said. Daciana was silent for a moment, and as the Count started to leave, she answered, "I would love to dance with you sire." At this answer, Vlad was shocked, which is exactly what Daciana had wanted. The Count turned toward her again.

"It would be my pleasure to dance with you Miss Dalca. As well as my death." Vlad answered politely. Daciana returned his cold smile.

"I do hope that will be the result." She replied. And so, the two walked to the dance floor, scowling at each other the entire time. The Count took Daciana in his arms, his one arm slinking around her waist, the other grasping her hand. As his arm went around her waist, Daciana could not help but shiver. It was such an alien feeling; it made her feel horribly filthy to be touched by this man. She struggled to place her hands on his shoulders, and it was quite evident that the Count took great pleasure in watching her struggle.

"Do not be afraid Miss Dalca, I wish you no ill will." He said. Daciana scowled up at him.

"I wish I could say the same for you." She muttered. The Count smiled as he twirled her about.

"Perhaps, in time, you will be able to." He replied. The two were silent for the remainder of the dance. As the dance ended, the Count released Daciana from his arms. As she began to leave, he grasped her hand. He kissed it lightly and bid Miss Dalca good evening, wishing that she enjoyed the remainder of his party. Daciana merely scowled, as she had been doing so repetitively, and stormed off to rid her hand of his royal filth. Vlad chuckled as he sat down in his throne. Adam rushed to his side.

"Was she pleasant my Master?" he inquired nervously. Vlad smiled.

"She is very disagreeable my advisor, but never fear. I am fond of a challenge and gaining her respect will be quite… challenging."

***

Approximately an hour and half after all this occurred, the Count was shot. Murdered. By a man named Gabriel Van Helsing. But the Count…was not dead. Not yet.

A year later

Naturally, the news of Count Dracul's murder had spread throughout Transylvania, even to Daciana Dalca's remote neighborhood. Luca passed his daughter in the front hall that morning.

"What are you thinking of my Daci? He inquired. Daciana smiled.

"I was thinking about the unfortunate demise of Count Dracul." She answered, trying to conceal her laughing.

"It is no laughing matter Daciana. That man was to be your husband, a fitting husband at that. You were to be Countess Daciana Dracul. But now that the man has been murdered, there shall never be a match worthy for you." Luca replied plaintively. Daciana rolled her eyes.

"Oh Papa, there are plenty of men out there and I am sure they will be better behaved then that rat."

"Rat he might have been but he was wealthy. And wealth is what I need."

"You have plenty enough money to keep you and Mama living Papa."

"Yes, but there is not enough money in the world to marry off my daughter. Boys are expecting greater dowries nowadays, and we were beyond lucky that the Count accepted our offer." Luca answered. Daciana laughed.

"You mean his _advisor_ accepted the offer. The Count seemed vexed at the idea of dancing with me at all."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite."

"There was no measure of intrigue in his eyes?"

"No."

"There was no sign of slight fondness?"

"Papa! Stop with these constant questions or your bills shall never be balanced!" Daciana cried and retreated to the kitchen. As she sorted through the mail, she came upon a letter with the royal seal of Bran Castle. The Castle Bran had been abandoned since Count Dracul's death, as there were no blood relations to take his place and Transylvanians were against not having a blood relation on the throne. Curious, she opened the letter.

_This letter is addressed to Mr. Luca Dalca, merchant of Transylvania,_

_Dear Sir, within these past three weeks, the throne of our beloved city has been once again occupied by someone who claims to be of close relation with his majesty, the former Count Vladislaus Dracul. Count Vladislaus Dracula, a very distant cousin has graciously accepted the task of ruling Transylvania and in honor of his recent coronation, we have planned a spectacular All Hallows Eve ball, so that the community may become acquainted with their new leader. And, his Excellency has recently been made aware of your planning to marry your daughter to the former Count and he explains that he would like very much to meet Miss Dalca. He is of twenty-one years and of high intelligence. A perfect match for Miss Dalca._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Adam Constantinescu, advisor to his royal Excellency_

Daciana was aghast. Not another match making scheme. She considered hurling the letter into the fire, but thought better of it and brought the letter to her father. After reading, Luca Dalca looked into her eyes.

"Don your finest attire my sweet, for you shall be married to Count Dracula within a fortnight, I am sure."

***

Daciana leaned against a great stone pillar, the same one she had leaned against at the last royal coronation ball. And again, her senseless companion Lady Dumitrescu was at her side.

"Please Daciana; this Count is just as handsome as the last. Do dance with him."

"I agree, he is just as handsome as the last." She replied, though she did not mention that this new Count looked just like the last one, if not identical. It was a chilling thought, but she kept it out of her head. At last, the woman left her in silence. And this silence was uninterrupted until a most surprising appearance jolted her from her daze.

"Miss Dalca." The Count addressed her. Daciana stared at him.

"How do you know my name?"

"My advisor notified me of your presence. I am dreadfully sorry for my cousin's passing. It must have been tragic for you to hear that your marriage had been broken off." He said haughtily. Daciana froze. That voice was all too familiar. Voices were not transferred from relative to relative were they?

"I beg to differ, Count; I was most overcome with joy when I had heard of his gruesome murder. I only wish that I could have been the one to shoot him. I would have taken great delight in lodging a bullet in his pompous chest." She answered. The Count's face darkened at this.

"I assume you disliked my cousin."

"Your assumption is correct your Excellency." She said coldly. The Count smiled a little at this.

"Well then, I stand corrected. You must be grateful that he is dead."

"Indeed I am."

"Perhaps you will like me better. May I have this dance?"

"You may." Daciana replied plainly. At least this one was slightly well mannered. Count 'Dracula' led her to the dance floor and took her in his arms gently. As his arm went around her waist, she once again shivered, but it was not because of her fear of being made filthy by the arrogant Count. This was different. He twirled her about gracefully, and they danced in silence until the Count spoke.

"Do you not remember me, Miss Dalca?"

"I have never met you before this evening Count." Daciana replied. The Count chuckled.

"Don't you remember your fierce hatred for me? How you shivered as I put my arm around your waist, how you wished that that single dance would result in my death?" he whispered. Daciana stared at him in horror.

"Count Dracul is dead. He was shot."

"Yes, I was shot. But then, in return for life, I bargained with Satan. Now I have begun life anew, eternal life." He answered maliciously. Daciana looked at him; first in surprise but then in amusement.

"Count, I have heard this ghost story before. I am not afraid."

"Ah yes, this is quite like your ghost stories, but I can assure you Miss Dalca, it is entirely true." Daciana remained indifferent. "Very well, if you speak the truth, prove it to me." The Count smiled. "I shall," he whispered. Count Dracula then proceeded to dance with her until they stood before a great mirror. As he twirled her about, he said,

"Look into the mirror Miss Dalca. What do you see?" Daciana was hesitant to look, taking care to keep her gaze diverted from it. Please, she thought, let him be lying. She then looked into the glass. All she saw was her self, her arms on some invisible figure. She could not see Count Dracula's arm that was still around her waist and she could not see the hand that she held. She turned to the Count, staring at him in utter horror. He took her hands and placed them on his chest.

"What do you feel Daciana?" he inquired cruelly. Nothing, she felt absolutely nothing. No heartbeat. She then fled from his arms, fleeing from the palace, into a darkened corridor.

From behind her, she could hear the Count laughing. She fell to her knees on the marble floor, tears of fright streaming down her cheeks. But she was not alone for long. Count Dracula soon appeared. Daciana staggered up, trying to get away but the Count wrapped his arms about her waist, holding her tightly.

"Where will you run to Daciana? Who will you flee to? Who will believe that your ruler is a monster?" Daciana looked up at him and looked away quickly, realizing that his incisors had been replaced by two, long and glittering fangs.

"I will tell them that I have spoken to the devil himself!" she cried, the tears still coming. Count Dracula chuckled cruelly.

"Go ahead; I can assure you it will only succeed in sending you to the sanitarium my dear." He replied. Daciana looked up at him again, this time, her eyes remaining fixed on his own.

"If it is my blood you want, take it, just let me go! I beg of you!" she cried, her voice choked from tears, her moist eyes gleaming in the moonlight. The Count at first wore a look of pure malice, but his eyes softened. At last, he released her from his grip and Daciana Dalca flew off into the night, fear flooding through her veins. The Count watched as she ran, a feeling of great loss seeping down into him.

"What a pity it is that I love her." He whispered. "But she will be mine. And she will be my Countess. And we will be together, forever."

***

Six Months Later

On every building in Transylvania, a sign was posted. A mysterious creature was seducing and murdering young girls. Who ever could it be? Daciana shall find out.

***

Daciana waited silently in the dark corridor of the Count's palace, waiting for him to fall into her trap. Vampires were not easy to trick, as they possessed savage fury along with their sophistication and elegance, therefore it would be no easy task. But Count Dracula seemed to be quite interested in her, and she perceived that his first action would be to lure her into his little world. In order to convince him that she was falling under his spell literally, she would have to at first protest, which is what the Count would expect out of her. After that, she would allow herself to slowly fall into his charming trap, or so he would think. The steps after that depended on what the Count did with her.

The silence was broken as a dark figure entered the corridor, approaching her with fluid, graceful, steps. The Count at last stood before her.

"Miss Dalca, I did not think you would be coming back here. After all, you seemed quite… shaken the last time we met." He said nonchalantly, lifting her hand to kiss it. Daciana looked up at him defiantly.

"Someone has to stop you. You are a dangerous creature and the Transylvanians cannot have you as their ruler." She replied. The Count chuckled.

"Creatures of my kind have been your rulers for centuries. The Draculs have been murdered countless times for their less than satisfactory deeds. How do you think we have claimed the throne again and again, reappearing in different forms? I knew that it was to be only a matter of time before someone would kill me, and I had been raised a friend to the devil. Do you think your people would care, after so much bloodshed? We are not as vile as you think we are Miss Dalca. We simply…take what is ours, no more and no less. Is that so terrible?"

Daciana remained indifferent. "To some, it _is_ terrible. But you are correct on some things. Some people don't care who their ruler is, simply because they are tired of fighting. But others, like myself, are tired of seeing so many others killed."

"Then if you are so against my family and I, the founders, shall we say, of our kind, why are you here at all? Why waste your time?" the Count replied. Daciana looked up at him.

"Because…because I cannot go on knowing that someone who could have been good is falling into Satan's clutches. That is why." She answered plaintively.

"Ah, I see. Then if you are so concerned, you will give me the pleasure of dancing with you."

"I will, for the last time." She whispered. The Count smiled.

"Yes, for the last time." He did not add that it would be the last time in her…living life. The Count led her for the third time to the dance floor, taking her in his arms. This time thought, Daciana did not shiver nor feel any fear nor nervousness. A queer feeling arose in her stomach, one of…comfort. The Count's hand was cold and lifeless in her own, the sign of decease. His skin was of white, a lifeless color. As they passed the great mirror, he possessed no reflection. And yet, Daciana felt no fear in the presence of this dark creature. But the Count had his own plans in mind, which were considerably darker.

He had vowed that he would not rest until Daciana was his, and he intended to keep to that vow. She was his main interest, the only woman that could rekindle his dead heart. As he twirled her about, he stood in a position behind her, his lips dangerously close to her neck. A violent shutter flew through her body as he kissed her neck over and over again, the sharp points of his fangs scratching her skin ever so slightly.

"You make my skin crawl." She said, fear and fury becoming one in her voice. The Count chuckled as he kissed her, whispering, "This is not all that I could do…to your skin." He then released her from his arms, though only for a moment, taking one hand and leading her back into the darkened corridor.

"Where are you taking me?" she inquired fearfully. The Count brought her close to him, so close that their lips were only inches apart. He took her wrists gently and brought her hands up, placing them on his chest.

"You cannot avoid me forever Daciana. You have been making excuses to come back here, it is obvious. If you hate me so much, why do you come back?" he whispered.

Daciana stared up at him, rage in her eyes. "You taunt me, you kiss me, you make me dance with you. You bare your fangs and reveal to me that you have no reflection, you reveal what you are. I ask you, why have you not killed me?" she answered. Things were not going as she had planned. He was twisting her mind, confusing her, scaring her. He was winning. The Count smiled, then kissed her lips.

"I would not hurt the individual that care so strongly about." He replied simply. Daciana struggled to conceal her shock.

"Are you going to run away from me again Miss Dalca, and not give me the chance to explain myself?" he inquired. Daciana recovered her speech.

"You have already explained." She whispered breathlessly. "And I suppose you would not care if I did not return those feelings? Would you simply kill me to get what you wanted out of me?" The Count looked at her now, malice and…sadness in his eyes. He then took her arms and put them around his neck. His eyes did not move from hers.

"I would not…could not…hurt you. At first, yes, I would have killed you. But I cannot. You have influenced me Daciana, from the night of my death until now. What I say is the truth. All I want is for you…to return my love." He whispered. Daciana stared into his vibrant blue eyes, tears beginning to form in her own.

"Count, I…"

"Please, do not refer to me as Count. Refer to me as Vladislaus." He whispered, his lips touching hers as he spoke. Daciana stared at the floor.

"I…I cannot love you…Vladislaus. If you were…human…perhaps I could but…I have seen to many Transylvanians fall under the influence of vampires. I know what they do. Even if your vow not kill me is true, there are still risks. Under the influence of his instincts, a vampire has no control over what he does. Not until his thirst in quenched." She answered, most truthfully. Vladislaus wore a murderous look. Had Daciana rejected him? His original anger swelled within him, but he willed himself to remain placid.

"Are you entirely sure of that Miss Dalca? Do you even love me at all?" he inquired. Daciana was hesitant. Come to think of it, the Count had really been all she had thought about, from his death up until now. Did she love him? No she couldn't' have, he was a vampire. Or did she, and the dangers did not bother her as much as she was trying to convince herself. At last she found herself saying, "Vladislaus… kiss me and I shall tell you."

Vladislaus did not hesitate. He pulled her closer to him and their lips touched. The Count kissed her passionately and Daciana felt as if she was being pulled into another world. At last, their lips parted, leaving them to gaze into each other's eyes. As they gazed, thoughts buzzed within Daciana's mind. She loved him, deeply, truly, she was sure, and yet, he was a son of Satan, a servant to him for the rest of eternity. He seduced innocent girls and killed them. How could she live with such a husband? And surely her father would disapprove of him now that he had been fully transformed. Or would he?

Would he simply marry her off, regardless of his form, so that he could take a small portion of his immense wealth? Daciana looked up at him at last.

"I might love you Vladislaus. But I cannot be with you." She whispered. She then kissed him and left his arms, this time exiting the palace at a comfortable pace. Meanwhile, the bloodthirsty Count was none too cheerful.

***

"You told her! Sire, it was to be kept in secrecy!" Adam Constantinescu, his faithful advisor, cried. Vlad did not look up from his book.

"I couldn't lie to her. Apparently she's well acquainted with creatures like me. She would have found out instantly."

"So instead you fed her the proof? Why couldn't you just let her figure it out herself?" he snapped. Vlad turned to him, rage in his eyes.

"Do not address me in such a tone Constantinescu." Constantinescu lowered his head.

"My apologies Sire, but it is my duty as royal advisor to advise you on every situation. It is my duty to suggest the right choice, the better option, etcetera." He replied. Vlad glanced up at him briefly.

"Yes, it is your duty to _suggest_ and that is your only duty. To make _suggestions_, not make my choices. I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions." He said sternly. His advisor looked as if he were going to protest but kept his mouth shut.

"Why so silent all of a sudden Adam, when you were so persistent only a few moments ago?"

"It would not be wise to be persistent in discussing a topic that his Excellency has no interest in discussing further."

"Either that or you are simply afraid."

"Well Sire, naturally one would fear the most powerful man in Transylvania."

"Be honest Adam."

"I…I admit that fear did assist me in answering your question, yes."

"As I suspected, but you needn't worry my advisor. I kill only those who aren't of any real value to me. Useless peasants who don't pay their taxes are some likely candidates."

"Thank you Sire, it is an honor to be someone of value."

"I'm sure my advisor. Now, away with you, I tire of your presence."

"Yes my Master." His advisor replied, but stopped in the doorway of his Excellency's chambers.

"Sire, I have just remembered that I have extremely important news. I received it not but twenty minutes ago."

"Yes Constantinescu?" Vlad replied flatly. The advisor was hesitant.

"Sire, I have just been made known that a certain…hunter requests entry into the city. A man by the name of Van Helsing." He answered at last. Vlad gripped the page of his book tightly, tearing the paper. Gabriel Van Helsing was notorious for his being 'a holy man' as well as murderer of innocents. But to the Draculs, the Draculas, etcetera, he was neither. He was a complete scoundrel. He had killed off twenty some of his ancestors, all of them partners with the Devil. He would cause nothing but trouble in Transylvania. But he could not risk a disturbance. If he did not grant him entry to the city, he might cause such a fuss that the Transylvanians themselves were made aware of his presence, which would lead to suspicion no doubt.

But perchance, Van Helsing was not in Transylvania to hunt _him_. Perhaps there was some other monster, as there were hundreds of them roaming about the city. But Romanians had grown accustomed to the creatures, specifically vampires, and had learned that not all of them had evil intentions. But Vlad had his doubts. Gabriel Van Helsing and his ancestors before him had all sworn to annihilate the Draculs (as well as Draculas. The two names showed up numerously in Transylvanian history), for reasons that he had never entirely understood. He had only been told to utterly despise him and his family, every single generation. After all, Van Helsing was the man that had murdered him.

"Sire," his advisor interrupted his thoughts. "Do you wish to decline his request?" Vlad looked up at him at last.

"No, grant him entry."

"But Sire, your family has been sworn enemies with the Van Helsing clan since 1442 when your father lived. This feud has gone for more than four hundred years. Do you not still honor that pact?" Adam inquired. Vlad stood up and began pacing, rage vivid in his eyes.

"Yes, I do honor that pact my advisor. And that is exactly why I intend to accept his request. I shall hunt him down myself."

"But Sire, aren't you preoccupied with Miss Dalca?"

"I haven't forgotten about her Adam. She will be mine soon enough." He answered, chuckling. "Honestly, I don't think she can resist staying away for too long."

"Ah, I see. I shall grant his request immediately." Adam answered and was about to leave for the second time when he said, "Count,"

"Yes my advisor?"

"Can _you _resist her?" and with that, the advisor was out of sight. Vlad was greatly irritated by his advisor's remark, but decided to dismiss it.

"Claudiu!" He called. His servant boy rushed into the room.

"Yes, my Master?"

"Fetch me a beautiful girl, the loveliest you can find. I am hungry."

***

And so, Claudiu went from door to door, seeking a lovely girl. Unfortunately for him, the girl that fit his master's terms was Daciana Dalca.

"Daciana Dalca?"

"Yes?"

"You have been requested at the palace by his Excellency, the Count." He answered, then looked her up and down, mumbling and nodding as he went. "Yes, Miss Dalca, it is most vital that you come to the castle posthaste."

Daciana nearly laughed out loud. "Young boy, are you sure that his Excellency requested me, me in particular?"

"No ma'am. It was his Excellency's orders for me to go out into the city and seek a woman to…keep him company this evening."

"Ah, I see. Well then, I am afraid I must decline your request. You see, his Excellency and I have had three meetings before and they have been none too…nice."

"But…but ma'am!" the boy cried, tears of fright brimming in his eyes. "You don't understand! His Excellency will do horrible, horrible things to me if I do not bring him a beautiful girl within the hour!" Daciana listened carefully to him, but she wasn't about to let herself be wavered by a servant boy.

"Dear boy, I decline your request for your own sake." She answered most truthfully. "His Excellency shall do worse things to you if you bring me."

"But madam, I overheard his Excellency talking with Constantinescu. He loves you madam." The boy said, the tone of his voice leading her to believe that he was begging her. She sighed and looked at him.

"Alright young boy, I shall come with you. But I promise you, you will not be pleased with his Excellency's reaction." She answered, fearing that someone as ruthless as the Count would do something more than simply voicing his disapproval. She looked to her father, who nodded his approval. Daciana sighed again.

I was right, she thought. Papa doesn't care if I am in the presence of a vampire.

The two walked towards the castle, after Daciana had been ordered to don her finest and most revealing dress (along with her dagger that she had hid in her petticoats). Luca Dalca still insisted that she be married to the Count, regardless of his condition. Damned or not damned, he was wealthy and royal. That was good enough.

"Why do you work for him? How can you stand being employed by such an arrogant individual as he?"

"I am an indentured servant ma'am, my father and his father, etc., have worked for his family since the first Dracula was put on the throne. Besides, he is not that bad."

"Not that bad? Why for God's sake, he's de…" she stopped short.

"Dead, yes, I know. But I do not care. My parents were murdered by a werewolf on the night of my eighth birthday. By the grace of his Excellency, I was not thrown out onto the streets. Instead, his Excellency took me in, hired a governess for me, and taught me, cared for me like I was his own. Granted, he was gruff to me at times, but I do not believe that he ever wished me ill will. Why in some ways, the Count is like a big brother to me. He looks out for me." The boy answered. "But don't ever tell him I said that! He may think otherwise of me." Daciana simply nodded.

"I never knew that the Count could be so compassionate."

"He is ma'am. And he loves you. That is why I have selected you. Give his Excellency a chance to prove his love to you. Please." Daciana looked down at the servant. She had never been so touched in her life. This boy was telling the truth. Maybe the Count really, truly, did love her. Maybe she should give him a chance. She touched his cheek lightly.

"I will give him a chance young boy, for I fear that I am falling in love with him too."

Vlad Dracula stared at the girl as she appeared in the doorframe, his eyes filled with rage and hatred. He had ordered Claudiu to give him a girl that he could kill, not one that would prattle on mercilessly about how vile and heinous he was.

"Claudiu." He snapped. The girl held up her hand. As Claudiu appeared beside her, she said, "Go back to your work Claudiu. You are not needed." She said. Claudiu was disconcerted. He looked to his master to the girl, then back again, but the Count's eyes gave no hint as to what he should do. At last he nodded, and went away, leaving the two to battle each other with various glares. The Count looked at her once more, then sat down at his desk and began writing.

"I see that my blockheaded servant did not fully understand my orders." He said flatly, not looking up from the paper that which he was studying so fiercely. Daciana ignored the insult to his servant and explained.

"It was not his fault your Excellency. He was merely following your orders. He did not know that you and I have already met." She said quietly. Vladislaus kept his eyes nailed upon the paper, fearful that his gaze would slip onto her stunning face. She was so, so beautiful. With light brown hair the texture of silk and pale skin that shone in the moonlight, with eyes that glistened with curiosity and determination. With a face so lovely, he wondered how any man was able to resist her. He then flinched as he felt something cool touch his skin.

Daciana had placed her hand upon his cheek. His eyes could not help but flicker ever so slightly to her own, then shot back down to the page. Her palm was soft on his cheek, her blood pulsing rhythmically deep beneath her flesh. And the Count could hear it. The sound was so tantalizing, it was almost impossible to resist lunging at her and sinking his sharp fangs into her tender neck. He could hear her heartbeat too. Slow and steady in her chest, it went, 'thump-thump. Thump-thump.' Normally, any mortal in his presence would cower away from him, his heart beating faster than a spooked horse's hooves.

Again, there was the blood. Warm and scarlet, luscious and decadent. The drink of the devil. Daciana had yet to remove her hand from his face, and he was frighteningly close to lunging at her. At last, his long, cold fingers shot up to her hand, ripping it off of his flesh with lightning speed. Daciana pulled back immediately, her fingers grasping her dagger. The Count stood up, his teeth transforming into long fangs that hung over his lower lip, hungry for freshly spilt blood.

"I asked…for a woman…that I could kill…Miss Dalca." He said breathlessly as approached her. Daciana backed away slowly.

"Yes, I gathered." She said softly. The Count came closer and she backed away faster but the vampire was far too quick. He grasped her face in his hand, his sharp nails digging into her skin. His lips touched hers as he spoke, kissing her between words.

"I vowed… that I would not rest… until you were mine, Miss Dalca. Tonight you shall be mine… and we shall be together… forever." He said, and kissed her lips one last time before moving to her neck.

"Vladislaus," Daciana whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. "I am not the one you want. There are far more women out there, I am not the only one."

"Ah, but you are my sweet. You _are_ the only one, the only one that can satisfy me. I am looking for a bride, someone strong and beautiful, someone like you, Daciana." He answered maliciously, the tips of his fangs just barely touching her skin. The tears streamed down her cheeks now.

"Please Vladislaus! Please, let me live! I do not want to live forever; I do not want to be a servant of Satan! I can still be with you and not be transformed!" Daciana cried in anguish. But the Count did not care. His love could not live forever if he did not transform her. When she died, he would be left to bask in eternal despair.

"I am sorry Daciana. But your life as an undead shall not be for nothing. We can be together for the rest of eternity; we can live out the centuries. You will be my bride forever, and I your husband. Our love shall never die." He whispered as he placed her hands upon his chest once more.

"You have no heartbeat." Daciana whispered. The Count's fangs now scratched at her skin.

"Perhaps it just needs…to be rekindled." He whispered, then threw back his head and released a bloodcurdling hiss. Daciana closed her eyes as he lunged at her, waiting for his fangs to rip through her flesh…but there was nothing. Only the sound of breaking glass.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" a man's voice cried. The Count threw Daciana aside, his fangs bared, hissing like mad at the man. Daciana looked up to see him transform into something unearthly, his bat form. Another man brandished a sword, ready and willing to stab him. But she would not let him.

"No!" she screamed and ran at him, throwing the sword aside.

"Are you mad?!" he shouted. The bat soared down from the ceiling at both of them, his fangs bared. The man grabbed Daciana and pushed her against the wall, shielding her with his body. He shot a grappling hook and the two disappeared from the room.

***

Daciana landed with a thump on the grass and dirt, the stranger's arm still around her waist. At once she leaped away from him, hurrying down the cliff ledge, to Dracula's palace that lay just a little way beyond the Carpathians. But the stranger caught up with her, grabbing her shoulders and holding her still.

"You cannot go back there!" he cried. She stared at him defiantly.

"Why not?" she cried and tried to shake him off but he would not release her.

"If you go back there he'll kill you!" he snapped. Daciana stopped struggling.

"No, he won't."

"Don't you know what he is? He's a vampire! He drinks the blood of the living! He'll kill you!"

"I know."

"Then why ever would you want to go back there? What, did you forget your jewels? Were so busy making love with him that you forgot you had left them there?" he snapped. Daciana smiled cruelly.

"I would never _sleep _with him, even if my life depended on it! I would choose being sent into the fiery depths of hell over that fate!" she answered. The man was silent for a moment.

"Well then, why do you want to go back?"

"Because I love him."

"You just said that you'd never sleep with him."

"If he was a human perhaps, but I am not that kind of girl Mr…"

"Van Helsing. Gabriel Van Helsing."

"The monster hunter?"

"Uh…yes. And your name is?"

"Daciana Dalca, native of Transylvania. What brings you here to our city Mr. Van Helsing? As you can see there are absolutely no monsters." She answered sarcastically. Van Helsing chuckled.

"I was pursuing a bloodthirsty monster and instead I rescued a lovely maiden." He answered. Daciana couldn't stop herself from blushing.

"Uh…before you go running back to his fangs…I mean arms…won't you show me about the palace grounds?" He inquired. Daciana drained of color immediately.

"I…I…you are after him, aren't you?"

"I'm not after anybody; I just want to do a little sight seeing. I am not to be here long." Van Helsing replied. Daciana stared at him.

"Do not lie to me Mr. Van Helsing."

"Alright then, you are correct. I am here to kill Count Dracula. I would like to keep young mindless girls like yourself out of harm's way. Do you accept my request or are you going to challenge me to a duel to save your beloved?" he said. Daciana was grim.

"No, I shall show you the grounds and you may do what you like to the Count. I am no friend of him. He tried to kill me."

"A wise choice Miss Dalca." And so, Daciana led Van Helsing back down the narrow path to the city, none too eager to be his travel guide. She did not want to be placed in another dangerous situation with the Count.

***

Daciana served Van Helsing some whiskey and sat down at the long table in her home's dining room. The monster hunter poured over the map of Castle Bran, eager to explore its grounds and slay its master.

"The Count has quite an inheritance, does he not?"

"Ah yes, quite an inheritance." Daciana replied, her thoughts hardly focused on the map.

"You sound plaintive Miss Dalca." Van Helsing said, looking up from the map into her chestnut brown eyes. Daciana sighed.

"My father planned to marry me off to the Count. He still plans it."

"What? Has your Father no idea what condition he's in? Is he out of his mind?"

"Yes and no. He doesn't care what condition he's in as long as he gets money out of the marriage. On the other hand he cares for my safety." The servant swept in moments later, laying a tray in front of him.

"Thank you. Its seldom I get a hot meal nowadays."

"Why is that?"

"Always on the move."

"Ah, I see."

Van Helsing traced the routes to the castle Bran with his fingertip.

"We go tonight." He said.

"We?" Daciana inquired.

"Yes we. You said that the Count must be stopped. And you seem to know him rather well. Tell me, Miss Dalca, are you good with a gun?"

Daciana chuckled. "I am the finest marksman in Transylvania, at least for a woman." She replied. Van Helsing smiled. "Good."

***

Vlad stood out on the balcony of his bedchambers, scanning the Carpathians, as if awaiting an enemy. In his hand, he clutched a gorgeous silver ring, practically dripping with diamonds. It was to be Daciana's engagement ring. And still was to be. The man she had run off with was Gabriel Van Helsing. And Gabriel Van Helsing would not, under any circumstances, take Daciana away from him.

"This ends tonight." He whispered. More realistically, it would be morning as it was already fifteen minutes past one. Adam Constantinescu approached the Count quietly.

"What is it my advisor?" The Count answered.

"There are intruders at the front gates your Excellency."

"Yes."

"Shall I have the guards send them away?"

The Count thought for a moment. "No, no…invite them in Adam, tell them that I have been expecting them. Tell them that I wish to…apologize for my rude behavior earlier this evening."

"Do you think they will accept your offer, Sire?"

"Perhaps not Daciana, but if I know Van Helsing, which I do, he will be hungry for the chance to get rid of me. And I am hungry for the chance to get rid of _him_." Vlad answered. Adam sighed. Vlad turned around.

"Do you disapprove of my plan, my advisor?"

"No Sire."

"You are not telling the truth. Come Adam, you _are _my advisor. Is it not your job to give me suggestions?"

"Quite so Sire and I would suggest something, but I fear that you would not listen."

"If it is reasonable I might."

"Sire, if you really love this girl, do as she wishes. Do not make her one of your own kind. Give her time to see whether or not she truly wants to be with y…." Adam began but could not finish, for Dracula had his neck.

"Do you think I care if she wants to be with me? I vowed that I would not rest until she was mine Adam! And she will be mine! Nothing can stop me. She will be mine before daybreak, mark my words." He snapped. Adam sighed and nodded, leaving the Count in gloomy silence.

***

"Why are you requesting entry into the castle? Why aren't you storming it?" Daciana hissed. Van Helsing put his finger to her lips.

"Hush Miss Dalca. In order to fool a vampire, you must do the opposite of what the vampire might expect."

"This is what he wouldn't expect? If we act civilized he'll be supscious, no doubt." She snapped. Van Helsing hushed her again. She pouted but remained quiet. At last, a guard came to the gates.

"His Excellency, Count Vladislaus Dracula, accepts your request. Please enter."

Van Helsing immediately followed the guard, Daciana struggling to catch up. As they entered the lavish courtyard, she grasped her dagger, as she could just see the Count leaving the balcony.

"Give me the dagger." Van Helsing whispered as the guard went up ahead. Daciana stared at him.

"Never." She said, grasping it tighter. "I will get rid of him."

"Daciana, he will know. And you will not be able to kill him. You must admit that."

"What makes you think I cannot kill him?"

"You did say you loved him."

"I do NOT!" she hissed. "I will never! Not anymore!"

Van Helsing shrugged, took the dagger from her, and hid in his coat. He then walked on. A few moments later, as they approached the door, he stopped and grasped Daciana's shoulders.

"The Count does not like to be delayed sir." The guard called. Van Helsing nodded.

"Just give us a moment please. I must prepare my sister. She needs to know how to properly address the Count." He lied. The guard sighed, nodded, and continued on. Van Helsing turned to her once again.

"Your _sister_?" Daciana inquired. Van Helsing sighed.

"Look, if you are going to kill him, you must do it quickly. Or else, he will kill you."

"He will not kill me."

"No, but he'll do worse. If you do not pierce his heart, you will be a servant to the devil by morn." He answered. Daciana's eyes were filled with rage but they softened as Van Helsing touched her cheek. He then spoke to her in Romanian.

"_Poate ca dragostea pentru el sa dispara. Poate ca ai putea dragostea mea intr-o zi._" He whispered. 'Perhaps your love for him will vanish. Perhaps you could love me someday'. Daciana stared up at him.

"_Poate ca asa…Domnul Van Helsing._" She whispered. 'Perhaps so…Mr. Van Helsing." Van Helsing took her face in his hands and pressed his lips against hers, in a long, passionate kiss.

"_Eu cred ca sunt cuprinse in dragoste cu tine…Daciana_." He whispered after their lips parted, and walked ahead. Daciana stared after him in shock. He had said, 'I think I am falling in love with you Daciana'. It had only been a few hours!

***

Count Dracula sat in his throne, his fingers drumming on the arm, his tongue hungering for blood. He had seen that insufferable wretch Van Helsing kiss her and he was none too pleased.

"Her lips are too fine to be ravaged by such filth." He growled. He watched Daciana from the windows. "Don't worry my love," he whispered, "by tomorrow, you will be in my arms. And nothing will take us away from each other. Nothing."

"Your Excellency, your guests have arrived. They are waiting in the armory." Adam Constantinescu said as he entered the room. Dracula smiled slightly, revealing long, shimmering fangs.

"Ah, the armory. Such a pity it is that I will not be using my sword. No, my weapon is far more dangerous." He said, and rose from his chair in a single, graceful movement. He then disappeared into the air, all but the scent of his cologne, gone.

***

"Ah, Gabriel, we meet again." He said almost instantly after his disappearance. He now stood in the center of the armory. Van Helsing knelt in a bow, Daciana following his lead.

"Your Excellency…"

"Oh don't be boring Gabriel. Everyone who wastes time with introductions dies in my opinion."

"I have no use for your opinions Dracula." Van Helsing shot back. The Count chuckled.

"I only said that we should not waste time with introductions, Gabriel. I did not mean for us to be disrespectful to one another." He said politely. All the while, Daciana stood behind him, head bent. Dracula walked towards her and lifted her chin with his long fingers.

"Daciana, my love," he whispered. "Do you really want to stay with this man? Do you wish to be labeled as a murderer too? Or would you rather stay here with me? And be loved like you have always wanted?" He then stepped away. "Take your pick." And those were the last words that Dracula spoke, for Van Helsing had sunk his dagger into the Count's back. The creature fell to the floor, blood seeping from his heart. Daciana screamed in horror.

"What have you done to him?" she screamed. Van Helsing clamped his hand over her mouth. "It had to be done." He said and grabbed her dragging him behind her as she wept for the man she loved. As they faded into the distance, there was a deep chuckling. Vladislaus Dracula…was not dead.


	2. Forbidden Fruits

Forbidden Fruits

**Please, Please, Please, Please, Please Review. For the second time I am begging you. Reviews are like a ray of sunshine in my day. I review yours! Can't you review mine? Please, Please, Please? Thank you!**

**Yours truly,**

** Jasper Blood**

Daciana roamed the empty corridors of the palace. The marble columns cast dark shadows onto the polished floors. Tears streaked her face and her hair hung limply over shoulders.

"Lost," she whispered. "Lost to the world. All I ever…could have had…is gone."

"It was for the best, Daciana." A man's voice said. She looked up slowly. Van Helsing stood before her. "You should go home, get some rest. You've had a long night."

She shook her head. "No," she said, "No, rest is useless to me now." Van Helsing shrugged.

"Suit yourself." He replied and walked off into night. Daciana looked back to him.

"Where will you go…" she whispered, "Now that your deed is done."

"Wherever the church sends me next." He answered. "I have no permanent home."

"You are a gypsy of some kind?"

"No, not a gypsy. Nomadish I suppose, but certainly not a gypsy. I don't consider myself the type to where bells around my ankles and dance for money." He answered. Daciana raised an eyebrow in mock question.

"Are you sure?" she inquired. Van Helsing chuckled.

"Quite sure, _domnisoara_." Daciana smiled meekly. Van Helsing sighed and strode to her side. He took her face in his hands and pressed his lips against hers in a long, lingering kiss. But what saddened him was that Miss Dalca was not returning that affection. He sighed once again and walked away, leaving the young woman behind to grieve the loss of a creature so filthy and so heinous that it was a wonder she loved him- it… at all.

_***_

Count Dracula watched as Daciana silently followed Van Helsing away from the palace, a deep chuckle rumbling in his throat.

"Now that that miniscule distraction is out of the way," he whispered, referring to Van Helsing, "I can make you mine, Daciana. You cannot escape me now." A few moments later, his advisor flew onto the balcony, his eyes wide with horror.

"My lord, you are…but you were…how did…"

"Cease your babbling, Adam. I live. But do not let that new spread beyond the palace, nor the news of this…accident. I would prefer to keep it in secret. Do I make myself clear?"

"Of course sir. But…why would you want to conceal it, Sire?" Dracula chuckled.

"That is for me to know," he said as he passed him, "And for you to find out." He glided down the corridors, his footsteps light and fluid, his immortal blood surging with energy. Adam scurried behind him, eager to hear his next orders now that he was alive and not dead. For the second time. Would the Count ever stop with this whole die then rise business? First being murdered, then making a deal with Satan and coming back to life, then being killed again…and coming back to life. Confusing, the whole thing was.

"Master, what is your next order?" he inquired expectantly. Vladislaus stopped suddenly, smiling, a devious look gleaming in his vibrant blue eyes.

"Send the merchant a letter. It shall be an opportunity that that blunt headed fool wouldn't dare pass up. If he wants his daughter married off so badly…he will have no argument against me taking her hand." With that, he swept off. Adam sighed.

"More of this Dalca business. Why doesn't he just marry the damn girl, never mind the threats and schemes? Hasn't the man heard of a proposal? Why can't he just buy the damn ring, get down on a knee, have a church service and get it over it? Humph… probably doesn't want to go through the trouble of legalizing it."

***

The trouble of obtaining a marriage certificate wasn't what bothered the Count. It was Van Helsing that did. It was beyond obvious that the man was deeply in love with the girl…and no doubt would be seeking her out again. That was why he hadn't the time to propose in a more formal manor. The matter was urgent. Therefore, he would have to address the matter in the most practical way possible. Adam would send out the letter and Dalca would undoubtedly accept. Then, there would be a wedding…a private one in the palace chapel with possibly a small crowd.

His future bride would undoubtedly want at least a few family members. And as much as he wanted to avoid that, it would most likely be the only way to get her to shut up. But what else…what else was there to plan? And how could he make sure that his plans were foolproof. A monster hunter as famous as Van Helsing would undoubtedly have sources to feed him information. There might even be a source right in this very palace!

"I shall arrange for several interrogations," he whispered under his breath, the thought of paranoia creeping into his veins making him shudder with a feeling that he had not felt in a horribly long time. Fear. It wasn't impossible for a vampire to feel fear, but it wasn't very often that this occurred. Being thought of as the most treacherous and dastardly creatures, straight from hell, well, it was rather hard to keep one's self from building up something of an ego. His hands flew over the twenty five locks that had been installed on the Dracul family treasury. The family had acquired the finest in security measures. It was in this simple room that every valuable had been stored and it was here that Vlad was going to select the wedding gift for his future bride.

Now, you're probably thinking, what if she doesn't accept? Well, that wouldn't be a matter. She'd accept. Or at least her father would. And Vlad had a powerful sense that Miss Dalca would do anything to please her dear papa. The door swung open easily and he stepped inside, the mounds of riches that lay behind the threshold hardly phasing him. He selected his gift quickly. Sharpened nails connected to white fingers curled around a gorgeous necklace of gold and emeralds. It was a traditional Indian necklace that his great grandfather had purchased in Calcutta for his favorite daughter, Vlad's grandmother.

The necklace was exquisite in detail. The emeralds sparkled in the rays of dawn that seeped through the one window, reminding him of Daciana's lush green eyes, the gold reminding him of her velvet brown locks that shone with the utmost intensity. He closed his eyes, his tongue dancing behind his lips, longing to press them against hers and pull her into his arms and begin the eternal satisfaction that he would forever have…

Wait. Eternal satisfaction always had its ups. But its downs were seldom thought about until the deed was done and the ones who hungered for satisfaction were left with a small package, a bonus one might say (I am sure you know of what I am talking about. But if not, well, I would say that you are blithering idiot but that isn't polite. If you must, you nasty humans, send me a message and I'll answer your questions. Only intelligent ones. Your human stupidity is outraging.)

Hmmm….maybe marriage wasn't such a good thing. After all, the thought of that little bonus…haunted him. He shrugged. Eternal satisfaction could perhaps wait a few months. He swept out of the room, necklace in hand, pride and sinister clutched protectively in the other (metaphorically speaking, of course) and he flew down the corridor to his chambers, eagerly awaiting the arrival of his letter and perhaps the return.

***

Luca Dalca drummed his fingers against the oak table, concern vivid in his eyes. Daciana came to his side.

"Papa," she whispered, tears bright in her eyes.

"Hmm? What's that?"

"Papa,"

"Ah…sorry draga, I was just…considering."

"Considering? Considering what?"

"A proposal." The word rang in her ears.

"Proposal? From who?" Luca sighed and took his daughter's hand in his own. "A proposal from his Excellency, the Count. He wants to marry you, my sweet." He answered. Daciana gasped, but Luca dismissed it, mistaking it for pleasant surprise rather than blatant dismay.

"My sweet, I know that you do not like to be forced into things but…this could be your only chance. Count Dracula is the only man deserving of you. You could go so far as the Countess." He said. Daciana was still aghast, but she couldn't resist letting her heart leap for joy just once. Vlad had lived. But…that was bad. She looked into her father's eyes.

"Do you accept my love?" he inquired. Daciana was silent for a moment. She had hoped that her father would make that choice for her. She thought of the possibilities. On the upside, she could go on to do many a thing with her education and her lust for knowledge, but…on the downside, her could-be husband might decide to butcher her for the appetizer at the reception. At last, she decided to go against everything she knew, everything she had ever strived for, everything she had ever believed in.

"Yes." She finally replied. "Yes, I will marry him."

***

Vlad could hardly contain his excitement in a sophisticated way. But the sudden surge of energy made him ravenously hungry. He licked his lips, longing for the taste of sweet blood on his tongue. He thought for a moment. If Daciana had accepted his hand in matrimony, why couldn't he begin work before the wedding? No, no, that would spoil things. And besides, one body of blood wouldn't satisfy him. No, he would have to go on a binge hunt.

Binge hunts are exactly what they sound like (that is, if you know what binge means). When a vampire binges, it is quite similar to when a human binges, usually an anorexic one. Only in this case, they don't…give it back, shall we say. A binge hunt is when the vampire goes on a regular hunt but feeds on more than one person. They feed on numerous unfortunate humans; by the end of the night the total number of victims can add up to hundreds, sometimes thousands. It has been recorded in history countless times when entire cities have been wiped out by such hunts. But, I mustn't change the subject.

Vlad dawned his darkest cape, sewn from unadorned cotton. If he wished to conceal himself in the darkness, it would not do to where something jewel encrusted. He extinguished the candles and departed from his chambers, vanishing into thin air.

***

Now, our young huntress, Miss Dalca, wandered about the dark streets, unaccompanied. And when the supreme ruler of your city was a bloodthirsty monster, this wasn't the most intelligent idea. But since when did she follow rules? A few feet behind her, she heard an almost inaudible 'swish' of cloth hitting the cobblestones. She had barely enough time to turn around and look straight into the eyes of her soon-to-be husband.

Count Dracula. She could hardly keep herself from whispering it. If she had spoken, fear would have laced her words. But the emotion undoubtedly poured from her eyes in the form of several hot tears that trickled down her cheeks. His white fingers reached out and gingerly touched her skin, brushing away her tears lightly. The touch of his fingers was so cold that she could have sworn it had frozen the tiny streaks of moisture. His fingers then began to stroke her cheek with what could only be identified as tenderness. They cascaded over her flesh, the chill no longer stinging.

A part of her wanted to cry out in horror. A part of her wanted to fall into his arms. To feel his strong arms wrapping around her… pure bliss. To feel his fangs sink into her neck…sheer terror. She fought to remain composed. This man…this creature…had defied God. This creature had befriended the devil. He had laughed at a sharp dagger, a fatal instrument to anyone else. What would his reaction be to garlic and holy water? At last one of them spoke.

"Miss Dalca, I see you have accepted my offer."

"Yes." She choked.

"A wise choice. I am sure your father was pleased. After all, where could you go with our fine friend, Mr. Van Helsing? The only reputation that you would be gaining is that of an outlaw." He vanished, appearing behind her. "But with me…with me you can achieve all that you've dreamed of. All you've ever strived for can be done now." He skirted her, appearing in front again. "While Mr. Van Helsing rots away in the cold of the church, you and I will be young for eternity. You, my Countess. And I, your Count." His words were spoken as if he was breathless, the hunger in his voice all too evident.

At last, Daciana spoke more than a word. "Have you hunted…your Excellency?" Dracula appeared behind her once again, his arms wrapping around her waist, holding her tightly. His icy breath nipped at her ears as he spoke. "Please Daciana, no formalities. We are to be married, are we not? There is no use for them now. And I believe…that I told you in the beginning…to address me by my first name." As he spoke, he mouthed at her, the sharp tips of his fangs grazing her ear slightly. Daciana shivered, the deep cold traveling through her in powerful waves, making her skin crawl.

"Forgive me," he whispered, "I did not answer your question. No, I have not hunted." At that exact moment, Daciana tore away from him, fear hurtling through her veins. But she knew she could not get away. Dracula was in front of her in seconds, his arms curling around her waist once again, his fangs just inches away from her flesh. But then…he stopped. Perhaps it was the tears streaming down her cheeks. Perhaps it was the terror in her eyes. Perhaps it was the love deep in her heart that halted him from making her immortal. But it didn't matter why. All that mattered was that he had not bitten her.

Daciana simply stared up at him, the fear consuming her mind, rendering her unable to comprehend what had happened. And she was not given the time to inquire, as Count Dracula had vanished, soaring off into the moonlight. She stared up towards the moonlit heavens in silence. She then fell to her knees, sobbing.

"Vladislaus!" she screamed, "I love you!" She repeated her words until the local authorities had dragged her back to her home, where she would remain in safety (sort of.) She was to remain there until the wedding. Then she would be able to see him again.


	3. The Ruined Wedding

A Ruined Wedding

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**Yours truly,**

** Jasper Blood**

**Dedication: Read Baka12's stories if you are Twilight haters. She is a Bella-Basher! And does some yaoi. But anyway, she was my somewhat beta-reader, therefore I dedicate this chapter to her.**

**Note: Please guys, check out my poll or review me or private message me. I really want your ideas for the upcoming chapters. I need all the inspiration I can get!**

A veil of black lace cascaded over her head, concealing her radiant face. She wore a dress of black silk; the bodice was encrusted with diamonds. The full skirt and train looked as if they had been showered with the crystals, as they were scattered about and sewn to the cloth. Her wrists were spangled with a single, wide diamond bracelet. Her lips had been painted cherry red, only to be covered by the gloomy, black lace. Several servants scurried about her, putting the black slippers onto her feet or painting her nails. For a merchant's daughter, she felt all too spoiled.

And despite the fact that this was supposed to be a happy day, she could not help but shed several tears. And they were not tears of joy. They were tears of fright and sadness and despair. Adam Constantinescu, the royal advisor, swept into the room.

"Are you ready, madam? The Count does not like to be left waiting." He said, a nervous edge in his voice. Daciana could tell that the Count had threatened him, as the slightest movement in the room seemed to make him jump. She nodded solemnly.

"I am ready." She whispered. As she said it, the servants leapt to their feet and gingerly lifted the train of her gown. Elegantly, she slowly departed from the room, servants and advisor in tow. As they passed through the doorway, two other servants bowed at once.

"Are they always like that?" she whispered to the advisor. The man smiled.

"They are preparing, madam. Since you are to be the new Countess, they address you with a bow." He answered. Daciana sighed.

"If you don't like it, I can make them stop." He said. Daciana shook her head slightly.

"I will tell them to stop when I am officially Countess, sir. Right now, I am as much a commoner as they." Her voice was tinged with sadness and the advisor wanted to console her, but knew it would do no good. Miss Dalca had chosen her fate. Today she would seal it.

The two of them knelt at the altar. Although he had defied God, Vladislaus decided that it would be better to have a religious ceremony, as Daciana would most likely want a traditional wedding. And so, the saying of vows went on. It was a tedious, long process, and the young Count found himself wanting to sink his fangs into the preacher's neck simply to get it over with.

Damn it, why can't he hurry up, he thought, his eyes blazing with a murderous fire. But a part of him wasn't infuriated. No, a part of him…an extremely small part…felt a pang of guilt. Guilt for the fact that he had stalked, threatened, and attempted to murder the woman who was across from him, finally accepting his offer. But he brushed it aside dismissively. Today they would be married. Tomorrow…their love would live out the centuries. They would remain forever unaging, undying.

At last, the priest said, "Do you, Count Vladislaus Dracula, take this woman to be your wife?"

Vlad held her hands in his own now, the chill of his fingers sending jolts through her fingers. "I do."

"And do you, Daciana Dalca, take this man to be your husband?" Daciana looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears.

"I …" but she was not given a chance to finish. There was a deafening crack as a figure dressed in black came hurtling through the great windows, sending shards of glass spiraling across the floor. A sudden wave of gasps hurtled through the small crowd. Although it was not of her instinct to cower, Daciana could not help but let herself be caught in the Count's protective arms. Somewhat, at least. She buried her face in his chest, too afraid to look up. She knew who the figure was. She knew him well.

And she knew that the Count would enjoy ripping the very life out of him all too much. But it was natural for a predator to savor his prey. It would be a slow, painful, regretful death. As Vladislaus released her from his arms, the figure was revealed to her. And she was right.

"Ah, Mr. Van Helsing," Dracula said, his eyes glittering with a deep hunger. "I see you have come to our wedding. What a shame that we did not think to include you on the guest list." His voice was unbearably lilting, with a mocking edge, a sure sign that he was preparing for the kill. Van Helsing was not wavered. He stood with an expressionless face, his eyes as cold as his opponent's. Dracula glanced at his advisor, who quickly signaled for the guards to usher the ten guests away. Mr. Dalca went somewhat grudgingly, not wanting his daughter to be involved, but then again, she wasn't really his daughter anymore. She was merely a toy of the Count's.

As the guests slowly vanished, he took Daciana's hands in his own, his eyes colder than ice…yet warmer than the hottest flames. And from that look, Daciana knew that she had to leave. But she would not go far.

The Count stepped over the small mounds of glass, the deep fire in his unbeating heart invisible in his expression.

"I can tell the character of a man by the sound of his heartbeat." He said, clapping his hands rhythmically, imitating the pulsing organ. "Usually when I approach, I can almost dance to the beat. Strange that yours is so steady." Van Helsing was untouched.

"Are you looking for fear?" Dracula appeared behind him.

"Are you looking for death?" he hissed.

"No, not particularly." He answered snidely. Dracula took several deep breaths, calming himself.

"So it is my wife you want?"

"She's not your wife yet, Count. She did not get the chance to say 'I do'. But in answer to your question, I could care less what happens to her. She decided her fate. My only concern is getting rid of you."

"Ah, I see. And these are your orders from the church or are they your own personal desires?"

"…"

"Indecisive, Mr. Van Helsing?"

"It's a little bit of both, actually."

"Ah. Personal desires so often cloud one's judgment."

"I agree."

"In fact, I would say that your own judgment has been clouded considerably."

"Ah, why is that?" Dracula grinned, his teeth bared, lunging at him. But Van Helsing was too smart to fall for his mock flattery. He leapt away as the creature lunged, fully transformed into a bat/man thing (Mortals, 'thing' was the only description suitable for such a shockingly evil, horribly hideous, devious monster! Mahahaha!) In reaction, Van Helsing brandished his throwing stars, hurling them at his opponent's vulnerable chest. But Dracula proved to be a far better fighter than he had assumed. Expertly, he caught the stars in his wings, the sharp tips ripping through the leathery gray film. The pain must have been unbearable, but the Count showed no feeling.

He tore the weapons from his wings, holding them in his talons. "These are yours, I assume?" he said, his voice morphed into a grating roar, the voice of a monster. But wait…he was a monster anyway. Well, let me tell you mortals, this voice belonged to the foulest, most heinous monster that you could ever imagine. In fact, you couldn't imagine it. Your mind wouldn't be able to bear such terror. Van Helsing remained placid.

"Your assumption is correct." He said, his words followed by savage hand-to-hand combat. The bat-like creature grasped his arms with ease, his claws digging into his flesh, leaving long, jagged gashes, blood pouring from them. The sleeves of his black leather coat were torn to shreds. The creature delivered a crushing blow to the head, causing a stream of crimson to trickle down his forehead. And as all this happened, the Count remained uninjured, unmarred. Not even the slightest scrape was visible. At last, Dracula released the man from his clutches, changing back to his human form.

He loomed over Van Helsing, chuckling as the man's breathing grew shallower.

"I must admit Gabriel, I admire your persistence. Very few mortals continue to fight even though defeat is inevitable." Van Helsing lapsed into a horrendous coughing fit, then spoke.

"You were a mortal yourself, not too long ago. I admire how you can forget so easily the life you once lived." At this, Dracula's complexion darkened considerably. "I had no life as a mortal. Why would any mortal enjoy their life if only to end up dead? Mortals cannot live out time, unchanged."

"True, but wouldn't it get awfully lonely to live out eternity while everyone else died off? Oh yes that's right, you'll have Daciana. But don't you think that she would want to be rejoined with her dead relatives? Has it occurred to you that she might not want to live out the centuries? Have you ever thought that she might not want to kill in order to live, to feed on those whom she once walked amongst? If you love her so terribly, surely you would be willing to spare her? Or are you too selfish?" But his words were too much for the Count, as a deep feeling bloomed within him. And…it was guilt.

Instinctively, he lunged at his opponent, ready and willing to sink his fangs into his unprotected neck, when something stopped him. Van Helsing held something against his chest. It was a dagger. The gleaming tip drew blood from the vampire's chest. But Dracula merely smiled.

"Go ahead, kill me."

"I've already killed you once before. Apparently, I underestimated your invincibility. But I will not be your killer today, Count. I will let you be the judge of how long you live." He answered. Somewhat startled by this, Dracula backed away, allowing Van Helsing a few moments to gain his strength and stand up. He brushed off any dried blood from his coat. "I will leave you and your fiancée to your wedding, at the moment, _domnul conte_. But not forever. I can promise you, I will find out how to kill you. And you will die." With that, Van Helsing departed from the entrance which he had come in…shattered, rather, leaving the Count in startled silence.

Not the usual outcome to your everyday brawl, huh?

Daciana ran to him. The Count caught her in his arms, holding her close. For a moment, they stood in silence.

"Vladislaus…"

"Hush Daciana, it is over now." He whispered, pressing warm, tender kisses onto her head and she realized that this was the first time he had ever truly been loving to her. Loving in the way that a husband and wife would love each other, not the star-crossed, threat filled, affection that she had received only days ago. Allowing herself to embrace this affection, she buried her head in his chest and let him pull her closer.

"Daciana, my love," he whispered.

"Yes?"

"I will not transform you until you are ready." He said finally, his voice firm and serious. Daciana looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

"Really, Vladislaus?" The Count nodded. And her heart leapt for joy.

And so, the Count and Miss Dalca were soon truly married and the Count kept his promise. And so did Van Helsing. But that is for another chapter.


	4. The Monsters that Lurk

The Monsters that lurk in the Shadows

**Dear fans of this series of chapters or any visitors whatsoever: PLEASE FOR THE SAKE OF MY SANITY AND YOUR OWN (DON'T ASK ME HOW IT WILL AFFECT YOUR SANITY BUT IT WILL!), REVIEW THIS CHAPTER! REVIEW IT OR ELSE THE GATEWAY TO HELL SHALL BE OPENED AND YOU SHALL BE SUCKED INTO ITS FIREY DEPTHS, ONLY TO ESCAPE IF YOU BARGAIN WITH THE DEVIL AND BECOME A FOLLOWER OF COUNT DRACULA! BUT YOU WON'T. O YOU WON'T! AND YOU'LL BE SORRY!**

**YOURS TRULY,**

**JASPER BLOOD**

And on that cheerful note, here we go kids. Oh and a short introduction to this: Countess Dracula bears a child, their daughter, Viscountess Mariska. This is basically a preview to the next chapter.

Transylvania- 1820

Vladislaus stood before the great balcony of his chambers. His hands were folded behind his back, his eyes staring ahead. There was nothing but fury in them. Behind him, his countess, Daciana, lay in bed, cradling her newborn daughter in her arms. Her name was Mariska. She smiled down at the child, who slept contently, wrapped in warm blankets of velvet and silk. But Vladislaus was not as pleased with this 'product'. His child was a girl. A female. Females were not heirs. Sons were. And his wife had failed to bear him a son.

He could hear the servant scurry into the room, carrying milk for the child and hot tea for her mistress. He noticed these things, but he paid no mind to them. He paid mind to nothing, save for what concerned him. And that was the child. As the servant left, Daciana beckoned him.

"Vladislaus, please come here." She said quietly, her voice weak. Vladislaus stared down upon his vast palace, then turned and walked to his wife.

"Is she not beautiful?" Daciana whispered as he came to her side, stroking the soft, rust-colored wisps of hair on her daughter's head. Vladislaus eyed the child coldly.

"Beauty does not determine a ruler."

"You should not be concerned about such things as that now." She answered sternly. Vladislaus looked into her eyes, his fury burning like a brand.

"And why should I not?"

"Your life is eternal. I did not think that you were willing to give up your place in society."

"Sooner or later, I shall tire. I shall have more important things to occupy myself with." He answered her, his voice emotionless. He stroked her cheek. Daciana lifted one hand away from the baby and pushed her husband's away. "If you can think about only this, I shall have to consider if you are worthy of being the guardian of my child." She answered icily. Vladislaus chuckled.

"I did not think that you had a choice in that." He whispered, his cold fingers once again stroking her face. But he left her alone. He had other things to attend to.

Four Years Later

Vladislaus sat in his throne, drumming the tips of his fingers against the arm. His eyes darted back and forth, scanning his palace. It was rather seldom that the Count slept at night. Seldom that he slept during the day as well. But that didn't matter. He was immortal. Sleep only came to him on his terms. But then, as he watched, he saw something come out of the darkness. It was a small form, accompanied by a soft whimpering. Mariska. He smiled maliciously.

"Mariska, my love, you should be sleeping." The form stopped moving abruptly. Then, slowly, it came forward. Out of the darkness and into the moonlight appeared a young girl, no older than four, with deep red hair. As she looked into the Count's eyes, she ran to him, feeling his arms catch her and pull her into his lap, where she buried her head.

"What ails you, my sweet?" Vladislaus inquired, amused by the child's obvious fright.

"I'm scared, Papa." She whispered, her eyes wide. The Count chuckled.

"And what have you to be scared of?"

"The darkness! Oh papa, it closes in around me. Scary creatures lurk in the shadows!" the girl whimpered, burying her head into the fold of his cloak. Vladislaus stroked her rust-colored curls, chuckling softly.

"Mariska, my darling, there a monsters far more dangerous than darkness. And they lurk in the shadows of this very palace." She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with fear.

"W…what kind of monsters?" she whimpered. Vladislaus chuckled, pressing an icy kiss onto her forehead.

"Monsters that can do more to your lovely little head than any of your mythical shadow creatures ever dreamt of." He whispered, his voice tinted with insanity. "Monsters that will drink up your life, taking away every last drop, leaving you lifeless, emotionless." Mariska stared up at him.

"Who…who are they?" she whispered. He laughed.

"Me." She stared up at him, fear bright and bold and flaming in her eyes. And she ran, leaping out of his arms and fleeing to her chambers, begging to God for protection. And the Count merely remained in his throne, chuckling. Her fear amused him so. But if anyone else was to inflict fear upon her, they would die in his clutches. No one dared touch her, for they would be sent to hell in seconds. He would protect her. Forever.


	5. The Midnight Waltz

The Midnight Waltz

**Please Read and Review! I know it's been a long time since my last update and I know some of my readers are growing restless but please, have a heart and REVIEW. I just got my internet access back and I'm seriously pumped so this one's gonna be good. This chapter is focused on the daughter of Dracula. There's a lot of other stuff going on but I try to keep it at one single focus. Enjoy and Review!**

**Cordially,**

** Jasper Blood**

Transylvania, 1834- All Hallows Eve, Crown Countess Mariska's 14th birthday

The windows of Castle Bran were alight with candles, the corridors strung with paper lanterns. Pumpkins had been skillfully carved with frightening expressions and then lit, their ghoulish faces casting haunting shadows onto the courtyard floor. The intricate fountains spouted water, the oil candles set afloat in the basin painting the water a warm golden color. Streamers of nearly transparent silk fluttered in the evening breeze and the manicured gardens were filled with exotic, night-blooming flowers. In only days, the once gray and stark palace had been transformed into something lush and magical, something rich with life. And that was…something that had long been sparse in this domain, until this day. The birthday of Crown Countess Mariska Aurelia.

Her ladyship was to be of fourteen years today and a grand masquerade was to be held her in honor. Invitations written in bloodred calligraphy and gilded with liquid gold had been sent to only the wealthiest and finest households, as only the wealthiest and the finest could attend.

Mariska stood out on the balcony of her chambers, gazing at the coaches beginning to line up outside the palace gates. Everything was so beautiful. The warm gold lights, the lush flowers, the illuminated water that spilled from exquisite marble fountains. It was everything she had dreamed of ever since she was little girl. The Crown Countess was a great admirer of the arts and loved the beautiful, fashionable cities of Venice and Paris. She smiled. Though she loved to travel, this was her city. Transylvania. Her beautiful home.

Her heart would always be bound to it. She gazed out, her bead-covered gown glittering the faint white light of the moon. The gown was made of a garnet-colored silk and adorned with thousands of tiny diamonds and beads of solid gold. Icy fingers grasped her hand, but she did not turn. She knew it was her father. His grip was always as cold as the grave.

"Are you pleased with your gift, my sweet?" His voice was low and gravelly, his fingers curling tighter around her own. For a moment, she did not answer. At last, she smiled and turned to look at him.

"I could not be happier, Father." She whispered. His own smile held no emotion.

"Excellent." He strode away from the balcony, taking her hand in his and leading her back into her chambers. "I intend for this night to be perfect for you." He continued on, servants scurrying past them. Mariska shook her head.

"It is perfect enough, Father, you mustn't spoil me so." The Count turned toward her, his eyes suddenly cold and hard.

"If I do not, I will never get the chance to do so again." He said his voice, plaintive, his expression aloof. He then proceeded into the corridor, leaving her alone. She sighed and glanced at the great clock that was at the center of the courtyard. She shook her head. She didn't have time to figure out his puzzling riddles.

People filled the long, decadent ballroom, emanating wealth and power. From their bejewled gowns and masks to their velvet waistcoats and silk stockings, not a soul was dressed simply. Only the Countess wore something simple and plain. Her gown of royal blue taffeta was unadorned, save for the diamond bracelets on both of her wrists and the sapphire necklace that clung to her throat. Tall, white evening gloves covered her hands. Countess Daciana believed that simplicity was radiance. And she was indeed radiant. Her dark skin glowed in the warm golden light, the flickering flames of candles casting shadows over her lovely face.

The Transylvanian people had grown to adore their new Countess over the last years. This new 'Daciana Dalca' was truly extraordinary. She could partake in discussions of politics and completely understand and make intelligent suggestions and remarks. She could examine a map for only a few moments and come up with the fastest and most effective way for Transylvanian troops to enter battle. The townspeople often commented, 'The Countess could lead an army to battle and win, if she was given the chance.' But she was not given that chance, for she was a woman. And the Transylvanian court was old-fashioned. Women were seen and not heard.  
And the court would remain this way, if they were to remain in the good graces of the Count. Vladislaus Dracula was a private man, somewhat considered an introvert and chose to stand in his advisor's or his wife's shadow when it came to public matters. But he was indefinitely the one who held the power. In his opinion, women were good for one thing and one thing only. But Daciana was so much more than that that it took a great deal of work to convince himself of his theory. But under no circumstances would his wife overpower him. And Daciana didn't want to overpower him. She was not a diplomat, and now that she had two children, Crown Count Luca Dumitru and Crown Countess Mariska Aurelia, her duty was that of a mother, not a ruler.

The Countess seemed to glide down the marble steps, her small shoes hidden by the billowing skirts of her gown. Her arm was linked with her husband's, who's choice in clothing for the evening was dull in color, but still somewhat dramatic. His black beaded waistcoat was partially hidden by the bronze colored cape he wore, covered in jet black beads, his long, rust-colored hair tied back with a strip of leather. Gold earrings and two rings- his wedding band and a silver ring with a large chunk of obsidian implanted within it- were the only jewelry he wore. But the Count and Countess had only small roles in this night. It was the Crown Countess that everyone was waiting for.

Mariska glided down the marble stairs, her crimson gown glittering in the candlelight. Behind her, Luca, two years her junior, walked solemnly, his eyes avoiding contact with anybody. He seemed to be very focused on his shoes.

Her ladyship's hand was taken by her father's, the bitter cold of his skin sending chills up her spine, even if her hands were gloved. The Count then addressed his guests.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he looked around, as if trying to focus on every individual person. "Tonight is All Hallows Eve, the eve that our Crown Countess, Mariska Aurelia, was born. I have invited you here this evening to celebrate the fourteenth year of Transylvania's heir to throne." He turned to her. "May she be granted health and good fortune." He squeezed her hand lightly. The crowd automatically erupted with applause. The young countess could not help but move slightly behind her brother, though he was several inches shorter than she. She too was a very shy individual and didn't like to be the center of attention. But, she was royalty. She hadn't a choice.

Everything was simply bursting with life. The music, the colors, the decorations, the food. Everything was extravagant. She felt utterly spoiled. Crown Count Luca approached her, still avoiding eye contact. Luca was very shy and only really associated with those of immediate family. His only friend and confidante was Mariska.

Finally, he looked at her. "You look uncomfortable _sora_. Are you not supposed to be happy on your birthday? Mariska looked at him, smiling meekly.

"You know loathe too much attention." She answered. Luca grinned.

"Father expects you to dance with him."

"Father loathes too much attention as well."

"Ah," he chuckled, his spectacles magnifying his green eyes. "But you are the Crown Countess, his first daughter, heir to the throne. It is customary for the Count to dance with his daughter on her birthday." Mariska scowled at him. She looked about. Her father and mother were talking, dancing along with the others, but they didn't seem focused. They seemed quite engrossed in their conversation. Daciana wore a concerned look. The Count's expression was typical: not a trace of emotion was visible.

"They are worried about something?" Luca perceived. Mariska did not answer. They were concerned with something, that much was evident. But why? She sighed and shook her head.

"I need to escape this place."

Memories flooded back to Daciana. The first night she met him, when he was fully alive. How his arms around her had filled her with a horrid sense of violation, how she had felt filthy and dreadful after the fact. Then, there had been the second time. Then, a deep, hate-filled cold had seeped through her clothing and into her skin, his arms clutching her waist, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh. She remembered. There had been welts in her flesh days after. Now, she didn't know what to feel.

She had taught her children to love and respect their father, though sometimes she felt as if she couldn't even abide by her own rules. The Count was a generally cold individual, nothing could make him smile, nothing could make him laugh or be cheerful. Even if he did smile or laugh, it was lifeless. He was nothing but a hollow, soulless shell. Perhaps he had always been like that, but Vladislaus never talked of his past. He mentioned once to his children of a time when he had punished horridly in his childhood but nothing else. Perhaps it was too painful to recollect. Generations and generations of Draculs and Draculas had been known for their brutality, particularly his own father.

But she dared not ask about him herself. Her husband stared at her now, his blue eyes glowing with uncanny intensity.

"He will be here."

"No he will not."

"He will." The Count replied earnestly. Daciana shook her head.

"What reason does he have? What motive?" he chuckled.

"He wants to get rid of me, that is motive enough. He will stop at nothing. He has made that much clear. And I have a feeling that he intends to show us just how determined he is this evening." He answered coldly, his eyes aloof. The Countess sighed.

"Very well, you think what you want. I suppose your 'feelings' are rarely wrong." She answered, distress heavily tingeing her voice, for most of this sentence was true. His feelings were rarely wrong. Vladislaus studied her, reading her expression.

"I am not the only the one that is worried?" She looked at him, her green eyes answering the question for her. He pulled her closer into his arms, the deep chill of his flesh raising the hairs on her neck. His blue eyes seemed to be attempting to bore holes into her. Then suddenly, he grasped her cheek with his hand, his nails biting into her skin. He bent his head closer to her, his lips dangerously close to hers.

"Are your old affections for Mr. Van Helsing coming back, my love?" Daciana's eyes shot up from his lips and stared at him, anger surging through her.

"I have no affection for him. You know that!" she snapped. "I love you more than anything else! Why can you not believe that?" He chuckled, amused by her fury.

"Then why do you insist on protecting him?" he whispered, pressing an icy kiss onto her lips. She stared at him, her eyes radiating fury.

"I insist on protecting him because I am loyal to the human race, my race. Not _your_ demon filth." She growled. Vladislaus feigned an offended expression, his thin lips quickly curving into a devious smile. He released her from his arms, catching her by the hand before she could storm off and led her into a darkened corridor. He pulled her into his arms, grasping her waist tightly.

"My demon filth?" he inquired, his eyes those of an innocent child. She glared at him, swearing silently to herself. She despised the way her husband played her for a fool. He smiled at her, kissing her, pulling her into his grasp before she could move away.

"Daci," he murmured, "my lovely. I would never have married a fool. But you must forgive me. Your beauty is so hypnotizing; I often forget the extent of your knowledge." He kissed her now between every sentence, his teeth turning into fangs, biting at her skin. She waited nervously for him to draw blood. At last he stopped and looked at her.

"He is here."

Mariska wandered through the courtyard. The Jack-o-lanterns glowed, grinning ferociously in the cold, autumn night. The stars were hidden behind the thick blanket of clouds but the moon was out and shining, casting an eerie white light onto the polished marble. She knelt down, her skirts billowing around her. In a daze, she traced her reflection on the tiles, the thousands of gems on her gown, glittering. Everything was so…surreal.

"Countess Dracula, I presume?"

She turned around slowly, expecting it to be her father, asking her to dance with him. But it wasn't. Standing before her was a man dressed in a black leather coat, an array of weapons hidden in the folds. Long curls of dark brown hair hung over his shoulders, his face partially covered in stubble. Beneath the rim of his hat, his eyes gleamed with a boyish mischievousness. She stood up quickly, brushing any dirt away from her dress.

"Y…yes, that's me." She answered quietly. He took her hand gently, helping her up. She brushed off her skirts a second time.

"Thank you, sir. Uh…to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?" He smiled, chuckling softly.

"My name is Van Helsing. But you may call me Gabriel." She felt her heart skip a beat. Van Helsing. She'd heard that name. Her father muttered it often and it was one of the main topics of her parents' hushed conversations. All that she knew was that it was spoken with the utmost distaste.

"Gabriel." She nodded. "Uh…my name is Mariska Dracula. But I…I suppose it is my father, the Count, that you would like to see?" He chuckled again, the skin around his eyes creased with laugh lines. He seemed to have a friendly demeanor, but his expression suggested otherwise. He looked somewhat pained, as if he was being forced to do something horrid.

"Ah yes," he said at last. "I have come to see his Excellency, the Count." She tried to smile warmly.

"I shall you take you to him."

"Thank you, milady."

Van Helsing followed her down the corridor, weaving through the marble pillars, covered with ivy and morning glory that had yet to bloom. Everything seemed to be different than it had when he had last seen it. He smiled to himself.

"Perhaps Daciana has done some spring cleaning." He murmured. Mariska turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh nothing, I was merely commenting on how pristine your palace is kept." The crown countess blushed.

"My mother and I have a passion for flowers. Apparently, this place was laced with cobwebs before my brother and I were born. My mother couldn't resist fixing up the gardens. The Count is not exactly the finest homemaker." She smiled. Her father absolutely despised flowers of any kind, save for the Cherry blossoms they had had imported from Japan when she was young. She remembered fashioning tiaras out of the branches; how the pink petals would shower her curls.

"Do you mind if I inquire why you are here to visit my father, Gabriel?" she said at last, unable to keep her curiosity in check. He smiled.

"Old business matters that had been left unfinished."

"Ah." Instinctively, she quickened her pace. He seemed harmless and of course, very sophisticated and formal. Perhaps the Count had been expecting this meeting. He had an uncanny knack for being very intuitive. "My father is conversing with his guests in the ballroom." She said. "I will find him. Please, wait here." She then hurried off, the darkness of the corridors soon enveloping her. Van Helsing sighed, watching her run off. He had no interest in hurting the poor girl, but he had been ordered by the church to attack Count Dracula in a way that would leave a mark on him forever, one that might cause him to even give his eternal life.

He had been ordered by the pope to kill the Crown Countess in the hopes that the Count would be so overwhelmed by grief that he would surrender himself to the church without a fight. Though this was quite unlikely. Count Dracula could raise whoever he liked from death with a single bite. And besides, the death of his child would only cause him to go after her killer with a vengeance. He gazed after her, examining every detail. Her long, deep red hair that hung in elegant ringlets. Her ice blue eyes, her pale skin. She didn't deserve to die, not for this cause. This young girl was going to die for the sake of humanity without even being given a choice.

Vladislaus stood a few yards away from him, hidden by the darkness. He stroked the leaves of the ivy with his fingertips, the leaves immediately frosting over, shriveling, and dying. His ice blue eyes focused on the figure in black, watching as he produced a sleek, silver dagger. He smiled, his long fangs glittering in the evening light.

"So we meet again, Gabriel." He whispered. Van Helsing whirled around to face him, but was met with only darkness. His fingers curled around his dagger.

"Spare me your disappearing acts, Dracula." He grumbled. "I never liked magicians."

Mariska weaved through the marble columns, searching for her guest. The Count had seemingly disappeared and it was anybody's guess as to where he had fled to. After all, he hated public matters and he hated associating with anybody outside the palace, despite the fact that he was supposed to be a representative of the people.

"Mr. Van…" she began, but stopped abruptly. The mysterious stranger had seemingly…disappeared. Her eyes darted. "Hmm…how queer." At last, she shrugged. "Everyone disappears. I suppose people mustn't like me." She walked on through the courtyard, stopping to pluck the bud of the Spiderwort plant. She sat down on the marble floor, pushing skirts to either side of her. "Hoopskirts are not manageable, pesky things." She muttered. Carefully, she peeled back the tightly drawn leaves of the Spiderwort bud, revealing a vibrant, magenta colored flower. The petals were still closed but their color was bright.

Quietly, she hummed. Then…everything became a blur.

Van Helsing loomed over her, enveloping her in his shadow. Slowly, she looked up.

"Mr. Van Helsing,"

"Milady," he interrupted softly. "It is in your best interest to run."

"What?"

He looked down at his left hand, which held a long, silver dagger. The hilt was encrusted with rubies. He nodded at her. "Run," he whispered. "Run now."

Mariska couldn't register what he was saying. All she saw was the dagger. And she had a sick feeling that the dagger was meant for her. In moments, it would be covered in blood. Her blood. She stared at him for a moment, then nodded. She stood up slowly, starting at a walk, then breaking into a run.

It all happened very quickly.

The Crown Countess hitched up her skirts and flew across the marble tiles, kicking off her shoes and darting to the cover of the pillars. But she was not quick enough.

Van Helsing lifted his arm and aimed the dagger.

Within moments, he released it from his grasp.

The Dagger cut through the once still night, arching in the air. The razor-sharp tip plummeted downward.

Mariska ran...ran…ran. The tip is so close.

Silence.

She crumpled to the ground, the tip of the dagger embedded in her thigh. It had torn through the silky cloth of her gown, impaling her flesh. Deep red blood spilled from the wound and onto the marble tiles, pooling beside her. But she could not feel any of it. As she had fallen, she had struck her head on the stone and was knocked unconscious. Crown Countess Dracula was now lost in utter blackness.

Van Helsing stood in the middle of the courtyard, breathing heavily. It was as if throwing the knife had drained all life from him. He looked at the girl that lay only a few yards from his feet. He walked over to her, kneeling by her side. He pressed his head to her chest. A faint heartbeat. She was alive. He eyed the dagger coldly, then threw it aside.

He had vowed not to kill her. He had kept to his vow. But never the less, he had succeeded. The wrath of Count Dracula would soon be unleashed upon him. That was without a doubt. But he would not die. No, the Count would live on. This would only make him mad. And he knew it.

Vladislaus held Daciana in his arms, the Countess' head pressed against his chest, her eyes closed. She allowed the feeling of his arms around her to immerse her.

"He is here."

"You have told me already." She answered quietly, her lips barely moving. "Have you made the guards aware?" He chuckled.

"They can do nothing. He is smarter than them."

"Then perhaps, you should confront him."

"When the time comes."

"And when will that be?" She looked up at him when her husband did not answer.

"Vladislaus."

Silence.

"Vladislaus?"

Abruptly, he dropped his arms, letting them fall to his sides. Daciana straightened so that she was looking directly at him.

"Vladislaus, what is it?" She was worried now. He stared straight at her, but there was nothing in his eyes, no sign of life, no sign of emotion. Nothing. She raised a hand to touch his cheek, but he backed away.

"Vladi…"

She was cut off suddenly as the Count threw back his head and released an earsplitting hiss. His body transformed into the monstrous, bat-like creature, twisting and contorting with rage. Women screamed. Men produced their daggers and pistols. But the creature was invincible. He did not care. He spread his wings, the thick, leathery appendages spanning at least twenty feet. With a single flap of the wings, he soared up to the ceiling, shattering the great windows and escaping into the night.

Van Helsing didn't bother with trying to escape the palace. He knew he couldn't. He also knew that he would quite possibly end up dying in that very courtyard. He had heard the hiss, the shattering of glass, and the piercing screams of mortals. Count Dracula was very much aware of his presence.

"Ah, Gabriel." A rough, grating voice growled from behind him. Slowly he turned, tipping the rim of his hat down so that his eyes were barely visible.

"Good evening, Count." The freakish bat swooped down, landing before him in his human form.

"I see that you have kept to your word, my friend." He nodded.

"I have."

The Count glanced over at the still form of his daughter.

"She is dead, I presume."

"No."

"So you have not killed my daughter?"

"No." The Count chuckled, a deep, gravelly sound. He circled Van Helsing slowly, his hands together, brought before his lips. He seemed to be examining every inch of his opponent, deciding where and when he would strike.

"Why did you not kill her? You had a perfect chance."

Van Helsing looked at him coldly. "I do not kill children."

"You injured her."

"But I did not kill her." The Count nodded in understanding.

"You are a brave man, Mr. Van Helsing. Risking your life for the church."

"The church wants you dead. You know that. As far as I am concerned, I am not risking my life willingly. For all I care, you can do what you want. But I am afraid that it is my concern when you start killing off people of my kind." The Count chuckled.

"Is that all you care about, the continuation of your kind?"

"Partly."

"Then we are on the same side, Gabriel. You want your kind to continue. I want my kind to continue." He said.

"And that is why I must kill you. That girl over there has undoubtedly inherited some of her father's…gift." The Count laughed softly.

"Actually, my Mariska is not like me. I am afraid that your employers…the church…gave you the wrong person to kill. And for that…." He circled him once more until he came to stand directly before him. "For that you will pay."

The vampire lunged at him, his fangs bared. But Gabriel could do nothing. This man…this creature…had survived a fatal stab to the heart. His petty knives and throwing stars and crossbows were worthless to him now. But he realized, he had nothing to loose. All of his memory, save for the last seven years, had been erased. He didn't know of his past. He didn't know a thing.

Only nightmares. They were what haunted him. He realized that if he died here, he would be merely relieving himself of the years of pain to come. He glanced over at the girl. She would have at least died for a notable cause, but him? He was dying for nothing. Self-sacrifice. But it wouldn't do anything for humanity. He would die tonight and probably be buried in an unmarked grave, if he was given a grave at all. His corpse would rot and no one would know who he was or what he had fought for.

No one would know.

Gabriel Van Helsing dropped his dagger. He removed the weapons from his cloak and let them fall to the ground. He took off his hat and dropped it at his feet. He stood at attention, waiting…waiting….

The Vampire grabbed him, his teeth inches away. But he knew that he would do that. The Count possessed strength and flight, but his only true power was his fangs. A single bite from him could either kill, or cause eternal suffering. He could create a fledgling out of any victim he chose. But that was all. No creature was completely invincible. And then…he remembered.

_A young man sat at a writing desk. A mane of long red hair tied back in a neat ponytail hung over his shoulder. His skin was pale. His fingers were laden with rings, his cape encrusted with gems. He turned slowly._

_ "Good evening, Gabriel."_

_Swiftly, he produced a pistol. The bullet was fired. Everything else was blurry. He found himself looming over a body, blood pooling about the corpse's chest. Count Dracul lay before him in eternal silence._

_ He walked away. He had been ordered to bring this man back for questioning. The church wanted explanations for the unsavory deeds of his ancestors. But he had gone against their orders. They had not specified whether they wanted him dead or alive. They would get him, but he wouldn't be talking anytime soon. This man's father had killed his parents._

A second flashback.

_The body of Count Vladislaus Dracul was thrown carelessly into a wooden casket and loaded onto the next ship out to Rome. Van Helsing guarded the casket, fearing that the count's spirit might not have passed on yet. He feared that he would do the same as his ancestors did._

_ They traveled across the Adriatic Sea, the journey long and grueling. But the monster hunter did not leave the coffin's side. Until one night. It was a stormy evening, the waves tossed the ship ruthlessly, not caring who or what was swallowed up in its great maw._

_ A light was shone into the cabin. "Mr. Van Helsing, sir, you must help us up on the deck! We haven't enough men!"_

_ He looked at the young deckhand. He looked to the coffin. He then nodded and left his post. That was a mistake._

_ That night, every shipmate was killed, save for one. He escaped. He swam for nearly three miles. But he was tired, so tired. He finally allowed the water to swallow him up, to take his life. But that wasn't so. He was rescued by an oncoming ship. He hit his head on the wood as he was being pulled up. Every memory of his past was erased after that. All he knew was his name and that he had a purpose. He just didn't know what it was._

"What are you thinking of, Gabriel?" The Count's thickly accented growl brought him swiftly back to reality. Van Helsing looked at him for a moment, staring into his ice blue eyes.

"The night of your death." He answered simply. The Count stopped short, his fangs still inches from his flesh.

"My death?"

"Yes." Van Helsing rummaged through the folds of his cloak, feeling for the last remaining weapon. A pistol. He brought it before his captor's eyes. "I believe I killed you with this?"

The Count laughed. "That can do nothing to me." He hissed. Van Helsing nodded.

"I know." He said very softly. "But it can do something to your daughter. To your son. To your wife. To anyone that has ever meant anything to you, to anyone who is of value to you. They can all go away like that." He snapped his fingers. The Count chuckled.

"Are you threatening me, Gabriel?"

"No. I am promising." The Count's eyes narrowed, the ice blue turning to a hard, stony gray. His fangs gleamed over his lower lip.

"I am beginning to tire of your constant visits, Gabriel. Tonight I wish to stop them." Gabriel nodded.

"Very well, I will bother you no longer. But others will. And I may very well be back, armed with other men of the church. We will not let you live on forever, that I can assure you of. We will find out how to kill you, just as we found out how to kill your ancestors. And we will kill any fledgling you have created. Including your son."

The Count could not help but look surprised. Van Helsing shrugged.

"You said your daughter was not of your kind. We have researched your family over the years and obtained the information that you had a son as well. You undoubtedly had a child that would inherit your 'curse', therefore it was obvious."

The Count smiled, nodding. "You are correct."

"But in order to kill that child, I must kill you."

"Also correct."

"So, I am willing to make a trade. I go free…and alive, until the next time we meet. And your loved ones will also be spared their lives." The Count clucked his tongue.

"That is a steep price, Mr. Van Helsing."

"But it is one that you are willing to pay."

"Perhaps."

"What is your answer?" The Count chuckled.

"Because you amuse me, Gabriel, I shall let you go free. For now. I will kill you in a more private place where my children will not be subject and you are not subject to the persistence of wife."

"Fair enough."

"Now go."

And so, Van Helsing left. The only true reason he had come was to research. He was forced to suffer several confrontations with the Count in order to judge his power and perhaps find the real way to kill him. But with a fraction of what he believed to be his memory restored, he knew he could find a way. Dracula would die. He would finish what he had thought he had done ages ago. This was not the end.

Count Dracula knelt beside his daughter. He raised her up and gently propped her against the column. He felt her skin. She was shivering. He removed his cloak and put it around her shoulders. He then bent his head over her own and kissed her forehead lightly.

The deep, bitter chill of his lips on her skin woke her up immediately to a searing pain in her thigh.

"Papa," she whispered. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She buried her head in his chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. The pain was so unbearable, like fire. "Papa,"

"Hush, my Mari. It is over now."

"But Papa, he did not do this on purpose. He warned me. He told me to run. I was not quick enough."

"He will pay never the less."

"Papa, you can't. He is of my race, Mother's race. You cannot kill him."

"You are not of their race!" he hissed, his fangs gleaming. But Mariska was not afraid. She needn't be. She knew he would not hurt her.

"My leg, it is not so bad." She lied. The Count looked at her, his eyes cold and lifeless. "Luca said you would dance with me tonight." She said softly. His eyes were still focused on her.

"Yes."

"I would like that."

Gently, he lifted her into his arms. And they danced. Somewhat awkwardly, but she didn't care. She just wanted something to be normal. She gazed up at the sky from her father's arms, watching the clouds pass over the moon, allowing the white light filter down upon them. The clock in the middle of Transylvania struck twelve. Midnight. But that didn't matter either. She closed her eyes. A waltz at midnight with her father. A perfect birthday gift.

Even the scorching pain in her leg had subsided some. Everything was quiet and peaceful. But she knew there was something more to this danger. That Van Helsing man, he would come back. She knew it. And she had a feeling that this would be the last peaceful day in her life. And the last midnight waltz.

**Ok, here's a brief sneak peek of the scenario for the next chapter. I plan on having probably two more chapters since I'm kind of running out of ideas. Van Helsing is eventually either going to die in the hands of Dracula or kill him and escape alive. I haven't decided which yet so I might make it a pole and see what you think. If you already know what you want, private message me or review me or whatever and give me your ideas and what you want to see in the next chp. The 6****th**** chapter, I'm considering focusing on Luca. He's the one who gets Dracula's powers and such. Please, tell me what you want to see! **

**I am totally stumped! Thank You for your support!**


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